


The Beginning, Middle, and the Not Quite End

by bittybae (piscespride)



Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, I really love soulmate au's, M/M, Soulmark AU, authors note in chapter 3, rewrite in chapter 1, soulmark can be anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-13 05:10:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11177733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piscespride/pseuds/bittybae
Summary: For a while now, Mitch has been so affectionate. Arms slung over shoulders, hands on his back, smiling more at him, pushing into his space and relaxing there.Mitch liked him. He never even knew.





	1. The Reveal

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will be about different points in their relationship.

Soulmarks. They could be anything; a name, pictures, words or shapes, anything. They ranged from the size of a dime to covering whole body parts. The latter was typically easiest to identify, not many people walk around with the beginning notes of one of Beethoven’s compositions scrawled atop their noses, or landscapes and sunrises and sunsets painting across their backs. The marks begin when you’re seventeen, switching places on the body, colors, and what they are entirely. At eighteen they’ll be fully grown, and from there it’s a puzzle of who your soulmate will be.

 

Jonas wasn’t sure if he was happy to have a mark on his collarbone, a name. Mitch. It’s font is scratchy and small, easily hidden by his shirts. Easily hidden from Dean and Sue, from Sidney.

 

Sidney. His twin. Her mark covered her entire left foot, bottom and top, and even sliding up to her ankle. Dark blue moving up from her toes and the sides, reaching forward and gradually blending into white, the line of it uneven and thick. It turns sandy after that, her brown skin turned lighter, finely dusted with specks of white and black until receding to her normal skin tone at her ankle. She claimed her soulmate was a surfer, a lifeguard, a diver. At one point, she was convinced it was a mermaid (Jonas secretly agreed that it’d be pretty cool) until Dean nipped that in the bud, scolding her for turning a gift into a joke. Then Sue got in, retelling the story of how she met Dean and how thankful she was to find him.

 

Point is, soulmarks are a big deal. Not having one? Even bigger. According to everyone but Sidney and his friends, he doesn’t have a soulmark. He was thankful they were willing to lie, especially Maddy, but nonetheless his friends stayed silent. Sidney though, she was the only one to know what type of mark he has, even if he hadn’t told her the name on the agreement of giving the first letter and letting her guess from there. He had frowned at the relief she voiced when he confirmed it was not Maddy.

 

No one knew that the name on his skin was that of his bully, Mitch Mueller.

 

Somewhere out there, God was laughing at him.

 

 

 

 

 

When Mitch left Sellwood, he was relieved in a way. New town, fresh start. He had missed his friends, a bit (Javier, definitely. Scratch, only when he’s drunk off his ass and has no one daring him to do stupid shit. Cliff he can live without, except he’s where he gets shitty beer and not-so-shitty weed, so he put up with the hick) but he focused on other shit. Like ignoring those rare but steadily becoming common dreams featuring brown skin and dark freckles covering naked shoulders and thighs. Soft skin sliding against his own, hands caressing sides and necks and hair. But he shoved those down. Hung out with people who weren't as cool as his old friends, hung out with his mom, drank beer and got in trouble.

 

When he turned seventeen, he woke up to a name on his arm. First thing he did was drink a beer and come out to his mom. Then he showed her his arm, the name a little bigger than before, a little closer to his shoulder.

 

“MY BABY'S ALL GROWN UP!” She had wailed, pressing Mitch's face to her chest as she rocked back and forth. Throughout that day she had burst into tears at random times, rushing in to hug her baby boy and shake him around. He'd told her all about who the name belongs to, who he is and what he looked like. It was never brought up around his step dad, but it was okay. His mom was all that mattered to him. Well, his mom, and Jonas.

 

 

He lived a happy life for two years. He helped a friend, Eleanor, deal with her mom. She showed her mark, a dainty _Alyssa_ currently hidden behind her ear. He never revealed his. His mark had moved all over, moving to his foot, to his chest, his stomach, his palm. He always told his mom where the name moved. At eighteen, his mark settled onto his hip, low enough to be easily hidden by his jeans. Jonas. Jonas Jonas Jonas. His soulmate. He had brushed his fingers over his soulmate’s name every day, as a hello of sorts even though he knew Jonas wouldn’t feel it, and every night as a good bye. It had made him feel better.

 

When he was nineteen, he moved back to Sellwood alone. His Aunt Lorraine picked him up, and drove him back to her trailer. He went to school the next day, chased Jonas down, became his lab partner, developed powers, and fell even further into his crush. Being with Jonas every day was too much. So often he wanted to show him his mark, take his beautiful freckled face in his hands and kiss him.

 

 

He thought he could get away with it, at times. The way they’d sink in close, eyes on each other. He remembered how it felt, to be sitting above Jonas, hands clasped over his wrists. The feeling of Jonas’ thighs on either side of him. His eyes, shiny and reflecting the pink lights dancing around them. How easily Jonas accepted him into his space.

 

He was there again, above Jonas. On his bed. In his house, all alone. Jonas’ old man was at work, and his mom running errands. All the little kids were God knows where, and Mitch vaguely recalled Jonas saying the clone was out hanging with her friends. No one to interrupt, no one to ruin the moment.

 

“You’re really close.” Mitch snapped out of his thoughts, blinking down at Jonas, who steadily held his eye while he spoke, voice soft and unfazed.

 

Mitch licked his lips, chapped and bitten. “Uh, guess I am, Spots.” He didn’t move. Jonas didn’t seem to mind, fingers curled in his old, dirty shirt. Jonas looked so beautiful like this. His hair, mussed and almost fanning around him like some kind of halo. The black in his eyes have taken over the color, and he looks flushed. His lips, Christ, his lips, are shiny and wet because Jonas kept licking at them and it makes Mitch want him even more.

 

Jonas made the first move. He tugged Mitch down by the collar of his shirt, boldly making the first move, and paid the price. Their foreheads knocked together, and Jonas caught Mitch’s bottom lip, and Mitch’s nose smushed into Jonas’ cheek. Mitch couldn’t help but snort, pulling away to laugh harder. It was the worst first kiss. Jonas was shaking underneath him, hand covering his face as he too shook with laughter. Mitch adjusted his position, freeing a hand so he can pull Jonas’s away from his face.

 

 

 

Jonas stared up at Mitch with a smile, small and private. His body felt warm from where Mitch touched him, where he hadn’t let go of his hand still. Mitch brought their lips together again, this time much slower than Jonas’ attempts to be in control. His lips are chapped and even with closed lips, Jonas can taste the cigarettes Mitch frequently smokes. Jonas would have expected Mitch to be rough in his intimacy, with his rugged exterior and bullying tendencies, but he’s soft, gentle in his contact with Jonas, something he hadn’t realized lately. Mitch hasn’t actually picked on him anymore. He’s been teasing, had even got his friends to leave him alone, in a way (Scratch still messed with him but he felt like it was more how she messed with Mitch and Javier, friendly and maybe even her way of affection) and it shouldn’t have taken him so long to realize.

 

For a while now, Mitch has been so affectionate. Arms slung over shoulders, hands on his back, smiling more at him, pushing into his space and relaxing there.

 

Mitch _liked_ him. He never even knew.

 

Jonas grew urgent in his kiss at the sudden realization, one hand cupping Mitch’s face and the other tangling in hair that was slightly greasy, the shaved sides of Mitch’s head making his palms itch. “You like me,” he gasped out during a break in the kiss, breathy and shocked.

 

“Should fuckin’ hope so, got your name on my hip,” Mitch muttered, then froze in place as he took in his words. Words, Jonas assumed, he had not meant to say. There was a flurry of activity as Mitch pushed away from Jonas, sitting back on the bed as he wiped his hand over his jaw.

 

“I should- I should go.”

 

Jonas stopped Mitch before he could leave the bed, hand gripped tight around his thin wrist, speaking before he even has time to think, “I have yours!”

 

 

 

Mitch was silent. Jonas chewed his lip, letting go of him and shuffling over, toying with his shirt but tugging it to the side so Mitch could see. “It, uh, changed around a lot. Sometimes it’d be on my foot, other times it’d be on my arms or my stomach. I kinda like where it’s at now, though.” His face burned as he spoke, focusing on Mitch’s intense stare at his presented skin.

 

“Yours is on my hip.” Mitch hopped off the bed, hands tugging at his button and fly and Jonas squeaked. He pulled Mitch’s hands from his pants and urged him to sit back down, unable to look at him.

 

“Trust me, that is _not_ needed! I believe you!” He huffed aa Mitch laughed at him, the older teen climbing back over Jonas and pushing him into the bed. If this happened in the past, Mitch hovering over him with a devious grin on his face, he’d have been scared to death. But Jonas sees the softness in Mitch’s eyes, and felt how gently he tugged on his hair.

 

The kiss was slow starting out. Jonas felt his heart pound at how careful Mitch was with him in this moment. He felt his lips drag away, teeth nipping at his jaw and soft pressure following the curve of his neck. Thin fingers tugged at his shirt collar, pulling it away from the mark. Mitch kissed it softly, tongue peeking out to swipe against the letters. Jonas inhaled sharply, shivering as Mitch lightly sucked on the skin. He was sure there’d be at least a faint mark there later, Mitch seemed determined to leave something on the spot.

 

As Mitch continued his work on another spot, Jonas felt his body press down on his own and a hand sliding up shirt. This time his gasp was not one of pleasure. He quickly yanked Mitch’s hand free, pushing him away and scooting up a little. He felt overheated and a little anxious, a band of soft green light floating around him. The idea of under-the-clothes touching seems…. Too soon. For them. Their relationship had went from a tenuous friendship as kids, to the bully and bullied that was on pause for two years, and then back to friendship. And now this? Finding out they’re soulmates so soon? Jonas doesn’t know how to handle it.

“Maybe we should, uh, stop now. It’s getting late.” He laughed nervously, inwardly facepalming. ‘It’s getting late’, as the sun shines high in the sky. Mitch didn’t respond verbally, head turning to look out his window. With his brow raised and face set in a ‘really?’ kind of look, Jonas looked away embarrassedly. Mitch pressed a kiss to his cheek and settled on the bed next to him, arms behind his head and socked feet rubbing together.

 

“No need to make shit excuses, Spots. We got all the time in the world, including,” he paused, manhandling Jonas into the spot next to him, one of Jonas’ arms over his waist and wrapping his own around Jonas’ back. “Time for a nap.”

 

Mitch’s grin was contagious, and soon Jonas found himself shyly hooking a leg over Mitch’s and rubbing his face against his shoulder, nose wrinkling at the smell of smoke and beer. “We have to make sure we’re up before anyone gets back.”

 

Mitch hums, not really answering and turning on his side to be closer to Jonas.


	2. The Slice of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He snorted to cover up how badly he missed Jonas too. “Sounds kinda gay, Joey-bean.”
> 
> “We’re kinda gay, Mitch. We’ve lived together since the end of my freshman year. We share a bed. We kiss in the bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen i tried to write phone sex and none of you can yell at me for it because i /tried/

****Mitch woke up with sun shining into his eyes, the scent of stale beer and smoke, and drool on his pillow and soaking his cheek.

He took a moment to get his head together. There was an intense ache at the base of his neck, like even though he was laying down, his head was still too heavy. His mouth tasted awful, his teeth felt fuzzy, and he could still taste the shitty beer he was drinking the night before.

Why had he drank so much? Oh, right, Jonas graduated.

He carefully started to get out of bed, ignoring his rolling stomach and pounding head. He carefully slid to the floor, crawling his way into the kitchen after a quick stop in the bathroom to empty his bladder. He kept all the lights off, peeling the refrigerator door open just enough to grab a bottle of water before making the slow journey back to his room. He drank half the bottle before setting it on the nightstand, and crawled back into bed, blankets pulled tight over his head.

He had started to drift off in the silence of the room, face buried in Jonas’ pillow when his phone rings. It’s loud, shrill in its tone and it has Mitch flinching against it. His heart is racing as he struggled to get out from under the covers, hands slapping around to grab the phone.

 

 _♡_ _Jonas_ _♡_  read on the screen, and Mitch hurriedly fumbled with the screen to allow the call, pressing it to his ear with unbridled glee despite the wicked hangover he’s currently dealing with. 

 

Jonas doesn’t give him time to speak. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Mitch frowned at the tired voice of his boyfriend. “Do I gotta kick Dean’s ass?” The sound of Jonas’ laugh made him smile, only because Jonas knew he was being serious.

“No Mitch, you don’t. I just,” Jonas sighed deeply. “I miss our apartment. I miss you. I hate having to get up early instead of sleeping in next to you.”

He snorted to cover up how badly he missed Jonas too. “Sounds kinda gay, Joey-bean.”

“We’re kinda gay, Mitch. We’ve lived together since the end of my freshman year. We share a bed. We _kiss_ in the bed.”

Mitch smirked, rolling onto his back. “Not all we do in the bed, baby.”

He could practically see Jonas rolling his eyes. “We aren’t having phone sex, Mitch.”

Mitch shrugged despite Jonas not knowing he did so. “To be honest, don’t think I could Joey. Hangover is killer, right now.” Jonas laughed, and Mitch could hear the rustle of fabric, crackling in the speakers.

“Shouldn’t have drank so much, then. Do you have any left?” Mitch squinted at the ceiling, tongue sticking out as he thought.

“I don’t remember much past beer number twelve, so who knows. Might have a can or two left. Don’t matter, gonna give it up anyway.” ...For the next few weeks, at least.

“Really?” Jonas’ disbelief would offend him if it wasn’t warranted. Mitch tried to give up beer more than he could count.Mitch waved a hand Jonas couldn’t see.

“Yeah, for real this time,” Mitch tried to continued but he could hear the muffled pounding of voices and a door through the phone. Time for Jonas to go.

“Crap, sorry Mitch, I gotta go.” The fact that Jonas sounded as sad as he did was consoling.

“Okay, baby. I’ll let you get back to dickwad over there,” His boyfriend’s giggle was like music to his ears. “Tell the clone I said congrats, or whatever. Love you.”

 

 

The call ended there, with Jonas laughing as he repeated his affections. As Mitch hung up the phone, he sighed and checked the time.

12:34. Three hours until his appointment. Which meant peeing again, showering, getting food. Maybe another nap. Wait- No, no more naps. Get up now. Get ready for appointment, go _to_ the appointment, go home and fuck around until his next one. Busy schedule.

With a sigh Mitch pushed himself out of bed and happily noted that while his head was still pounding and stomach rolling, he no longer felt like dying. So, y’know, yay for him.

The bathroom lights are blindingly bright, enough that Mitch slammed his forearm against the doorframe. He avoided the mirrors, ran the shower while he took a piss, and kicked off his ratty boxers. He nearly slipped going over the tubs edge, just barely saving his junk from a painful end by holding on to the curtain rod. Too close.

The shower was quick, Mitch using Jonas’ scratchy sponge ball thing to spread his bodywash -- something Jonas said was important to use, but Mitch said whatever and let him throw it in the cart. He even ran some of Jonas’ fruity hair products through his undoubtedly greasy hair to help not look as awful as usual.

He cut the water and stepped out of the shower, tugging a towel haphazardly around his hips.

Jonas would appreciate his efforts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Okay, so in total it’ll be five-hundred eighty-one. Need one-hundred up front,” the man before him muttered, accepting the bill Mitch had already held out. He felt twitchy, having so much money that Jonas didn’t know about, but reminded himself the reason why. 

He cast a look at the outline, face heating as Mitch imagined Jonas’ reaction. The knot in his stomach tightened, but he was only getting more and more excited.

In two days, he’d have a tattoo letting Jonas know just how much he meant to Mitch.

His pocket, containing the rough sketch the artist was going to get rid of, never felt heavier.

 

 

 

 

That night, sitting in bed, where he may or may not be curled up on Jonas’ side of the bed and wearing a hoodie that doesn’t exactly fit over his long limbs but it works as a replacement until Mitch can have Jonas back in his arms for good. He had his phone in one hand and his dick in the other, listening to the labored breathing across the line. Every noise Jonas made, every gasp and whine and breathy words sent Mitch’s mind haywire.

“Baby, how close’r ya? ‘S, fuck, been so long.” Mitch groaned, jacking himself faster as Jonas’ moans grew louder. He pictured Jonas, on his lap, curled up tight as he rocked over Mitch. Imagined Jonas, on his knees, face buried in the pillows because he’s never got over the way he’s felt in the position, one hand holding him up and the other reaching under himself for Mitch’s hand, like always. Dragging lips across sweat slicked shoulders, nipping at the freckles that peppered his skin.

“Mitch,” Jonas whined, and he sounded so delicious Mitch almost let go right there. “I’m so close, please, please.” He gasped, dragging the word out on a keen. Mitch swore, face heating as he shoved the phone between his ear and shoulder, freeing his hand to reach down and rub his palm across the head of his dick. He nodded a few times at Jonas’ inaudible noises, slouching further down onto the bed.

“Y’need help gettin’ off baby? Get your fingers all nice and wet, Joey. Yeah, just like that,” Mitch panted as the sounds of Jonas sucking on his fingers got to him. They wouldn’t work long time but they would do for a few moments.

“Good job, baby, now get those fingers on that pretty hole of yours, ‘kay?” The embarrassed little whine Jonas made was like music to Mitch’s ears. “Yeah, you fingerin’ yourself Joey? You wishin’ it was me, hoverin’ over ya and rubbin on ya, gettin’ my mouth on your dick, sucking you off” He continued, body shaking as his own words started to get to him, Jonas’ noise getting louder as he listened to Mitch.

There was a sudden, gasping yell from Jonas, one Mitch has heard so many times since they’ve began their relationship, and Mitch groaned in reply. He used both hands to get himself off, feet planting on the mattress as he fucked into his hands

“Mitch, i-it’s been so long, since you…” Jonas trailed off, little noises taking the lead before he continued. “Miss you so much, miss how you felt, in- oh, in me.” He sounded distracted, and Mitch knew without having to see that Jonas was still fingering himself, most likely with the lube he’d been too distracted to grab earlier.

Jonas’ small attempt of dirty talk, and that image in his head, was what brought Mitch to the edge and falling over. He grunted as he came, thighs shaking on the sheets.

He and Jonas just breathed over the phone, recovering from their fun time before bed. Mitch’s hands were covered in come, and he muttered a something similar to “one minute, baby” to pluck a few tissues from the box on the nightstand. By some miracle, Jonas’ hoodie had stayed cleaned throughout their call. He crawled back in bed and resumed his spot in Jonas’ side, holding the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Joey.”

“Yes, Mitch?” Jonas yawned, muffling it with his hand.

“Guess I did get to have phone sex." 

The dial tone was the last thing he heard after he said it, but it was worth it. He had just plugged his phone in when a text came through, brightening the dimmed screen with its announcement.

 

 _♡_ _Jonas_ _♡_

_Love you, Mitch. Night._

Mitch sent back a few hearts and went to bed, Jonas on his mind.

 

 

 

 

 

Late Saturday afternoon had Mitch pacing around in the apartment, eyeing every room he stood in. He actually made the effort to clean the place, working through yesterday and up until now to pile any dirty clothes in the hamper and clean the sparse dirty dishes he threw into the sink.

He didn’t want Jonas to think he had to clean up after spending two weeks at dickwad’s house. His fingers came up to skim along the newly healed skin on his arm, sucking on his teeth with nerves. He had no idea how Jonas would react and it scared him. Really, they could have used that money on something else, but Mitch just felt like he had to do this. 

He heard the lock turn and stood up straighter, jogging to the door and pulling it open where Jonas was struggling to push it open. He had suitcases and bags all over and around him, and he looked tired, his curls wilder than usual and eyes half lidded, but his smile was the best thing in Mitch’s life. After Jonas himself, of course.

“Mitch! I didn’t think you’d be home, you always work Saturdays.” Jonas dropped his bags and slumped into Mitch, rubbing his cheek against the ratty shirt he wore. Mitch hunched over a bit and pressed a kiss to the crown of Jonas’ head, nose buried in his soft hair. Jonas seemed to go boneless in his arms and Mitch gladly held him up. 

“Hey, baby. How was your trip back?” He pulled away to gather up Jonas’ bags, slinging what he could over his shoulder and kicking the suitcases inside. “C’mon, tell me about the party and shit. Wanna hear all about it.” Mitch urged him into the apartment, tossing the bags down (carefully, he doesn’t know where Jonas put his breakable shit) and giving him a proper welcome home, stepping into his space and capturing his lips in a firm kiss. 

Jonas clung to his shirt, moving to the tips of his toes to be closer to Mitch, who eagerly gripped and squeezed at his waist and ass, hands roaming all over his boyfriend’s body. Jonas sagged into his touch, one of his soft hands reaching up to work its way into his hair, running through the short, recently grown strands. Jonas pulled away with a sigh, a smile fixed on his face.

“The trip back here was awful and filled with uncomfortable seating, the party was boring and the only good part of it was that I got to find out who Sidney is dating. I’m tired though, and I know you probably have plans but I really want to go lay down. That okay?” Jonas asked, chin digging into his sternum. Mitch’s heart melted and he found himself nodding without having to even think about it. Not that he minded being in bed all day with Jonas, a lot of their best days were spent in bed, only some of them filled with sex. 

“Yeah, go on and get ready for it. I’ll bring your shit in, go.” Mitch smacked Jonas’ ass, smiling at his giggling disappearing down into their room. Mitch grabbed two bags, dumping the clothes in the hamper and bringing the rest along with him. He set them down by the dresser and closet, heading back out for the two suitcases Jonas had filled with gifts and anything else he had left in his childhood bedroom that Sue had cleaned out for him. Those went into the living room to be looked through later, where he knew Jonas would be able to stretch out comfortably while he sorted.  
  


When Mitch got back into the bedroom Jonas was curled up in the middle, eyes closed but not sleeping. He peeked his eyes open at Mitch’s entrance and smiled, turning to face him and reached for him with grabby fingers. 

“One sec, Joey, gotta get pajamas.” He tugged his shirt over his head, eyes sliding to the side to check Jonas reaction to his tattoo. 

He watched Jonas’ eyes widen, leaning forward to get a better look before scrambling out of bed and over to Mitch, who was already grinning.

“Mitch! Is this what I think this is?” Jonas gasped, hand reaching out to touch but pulling away before he could. Mitch grabbed it and pressed it to the skin. 

“You can touch it, don’t worry. It’s all healed up now. You like it?” Mitch asked, turning his head to look at it as if he hadn’t done this every day since he got it.

“Like it? Mitch, I… I don’t know what to say.” Jonas sniffed, thumb brushing over his name. He hugged him fiercely, hiding his tears into Mitch’s bare chest. Mitch didn’t comment on his now wet skin, rubbing Jonas’ back as he cried. 

 

 

 

 

“I love you a lot.” Jonas whispered into Mitch’s neck later that evening, fingers tracing over every part of Mitch’s tattoo, occasionally pressing kisses to the skin. 

Mitch brought him in close, smacking a kiss to his eyebrow with a smile. “Love you too, baby. Love you too.”


	3. The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day was warm, the sun was shining, and he was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last chapter is here! there is sexual content in this chapter, and if you would like to skip it, just stop reading after the line "The day was warm, the sun was shining, and he was happy." which is the line in the summary.

Jonas inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a few moments before letting it out in a gust of air that ruffled the flowers in front of him. There was chaos behind him, Scratch and Sidney fighting over something or other. Their yelling was background noise to Jonas as he looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was left like it always was, and he smoothed a hand over it. The dress shirt he was wearing was a little itchy at his wrists, but he’d be distracted soon enough to not worry about that. The deep blue fabric settled easily around his frame, and he straightened out any nonexistent wrinkles.

 

He fingered the butter yellow bowtie around his neck, rubbing the cloth between his fingers. He swallowed dryly, and as he glanced at the two fighting women behind him he made a decision, quickly abandoning the room and set off to find his  fiancé. The church was small, and the loud ruckus coming from the other side of the building was an easy map to find them. 

 

The old, crackled walls were painted in a hideous pink, but lined with so many photos Jonas can see where the frames overlap. Pictures of camps and cookouts, charity events and newspaper clippings, even a few weddings between the church’s attendees. He smiled at the gap toothed kids, laughed at the Pastor covered in food, and paused at the weddings. That’d be him in an hour. 

 

He continued on his way, eventually coming across a door that was cracked open. He stuck his head in and found Javier, Cliff, Mitch, and Henrietta scattered around the room, all thankfully dressed or at least almost finished with their outfits. Cliff’s dress shirt was missing its sleeves, and Javier was only in his baggy shorts and undershirt, but he had the required clothing in hand while walking over to the little dressing room. 

 

Henrietta was sitting by the window in a pretty blue dress and strappy heels. She had large, and probably heavy, dangling yellow earrings and her nails matched their color. Scratch styled her hair, and she wore it in a nice braid. She had her usual makeup and her lips were curled around a cigarette as she chatted with Cliff. There were a few balls of tissue with black smudges in front of her, and one clutched in her hand.

 

Mitch was in the corner of the room, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves, buttoning them and unbuttoning them. His hair, grown out at the side because Mitch had been too busy to get them shaved, had been combed and slicked back. He took Jonas’ breath away.

 

Jonas backed away from the door, amazed he hadn’t been spotted yet and pulled his phone out to send a message

 

_ To: Mitch _

_      Hey, leave the room for a bit.  _

 

and he waited, taking a seat on a bench a little down the hall. It was old, and pieces of wood stuck up in some places, but his feet were starting to hurt from the dress shoes he was wearing.

 

He hadn’t waited long before Mitch stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him and looking around. He spotted Jonas on the opposite side of the hallway and walked over, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. 

 

“Ain’t it s’posed to be bad luck if you see the bride before the wedding, Joey?” 

 

Jonas smirked, turning towards his fiancé. “Are you the bride, Mitch?”

 

The taller man snorted, collapsing on the bench next to Jonas and throwing an arm around his shoulders. “‘Course I am, Joey. I think I could pull a dress off, got the legs for it don’t I?” He kicked a leg up and moved it around as if he was inspecting it. 

 

Jonas sunk into his side, leaving Mitch’s joke unanswered as he breathed in the cologne Mitch hardly ever used. 

  
  
  


Mitch looked down at Jonas, who sat silently under his arm. He frowned, shuffling away from Jonas and leaning over to look him in the eyes. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He watched as Jonas shrugged, dragging his hand down his face.

 

“Nothing, Mitch. Just kinda… anxious about all this. Not in a bad way!” He rushed to assure at Mitch’s concerned face. “It’s just. A lot, is all. We’re gonna get married, in like, half an hour.” He laughed, sighing.

 

“Yeah, we are gonna get married. Then we’re gonna go home, have a party and married sex,” he paused to waggle his brows, pleased to see Jonas laugh like he planned, “and then go back to work the next day.”

 

Jonas didn’t respond, staying quiet as he stared at the wall in front of him. “Mitch, did you expect this for us?” The taller man frowned, unsure of his question. “Did I expect us to do this in a church? Uh, not exactly, I guess.”

 

Jonas smiled, shaking his head. “No, I meant, did you expect  _ this _ ,” he gestured to the dress clothes and his now bare ring finger. “because I definitely didn’t.” 

 

“Do you… not wanna-” Jonas cut Mitch off with a shake of his head, a sharp “ _ no _ ” leaving his lips.

 

“Mitch, God no, of  _ course _ I want to marry you. Ugh, none of this is coming out right,” he sighed, thumping his head against the wall behind him. “It’s just… You hated me, when we were younger. We were friends, and then you kinda bullied me, and then we were friends again. When we started dating, I honestly didn’t think it’d last. Not because I thought my feelings for you would stop, but I thought yours would. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out why you had wanted to date me. But you stayed, even when I’d forget dates and anniversaries-” 

 

“I forgot my share of ‘em too, Joey.” Mitch’s interruption went unnoticed.   
  


“And you still stayed when I went to college and barely had time to text. You stayed and never left and even when you got that tattoo, I still waited for this to end. Then you promised forever and I just…” Jonas rubbed the bare space of his ring finger, wishing for the skin warmed metal that lived there. “I never expected that I’d get this. Especially with you.” 

  
  


Mitch turned Jonas’ head and kissed him, thumb brushing over the spotted skin of his cheek. 

 

“I started thinkin’ ‘bout marriage after two months with you. I don’t think I can tell ya when exactly but. I was expectin’ the long haul for us. I worked too hard to get ya to like me, no way was I gonna just walk away after that. Even when we both missed special days, and when work was gettin’ to ya, I still wasn’t gonna walk away. I’ve… I was fucked up when I was younger. Ain’t no excuse for some of the shit I did to you, or other people, but I was.”

 

Mitch paused, scratching his nail along his dark jeans.

 

“Joey, I’ve never been as happy as I am when I’m with you. My life, right now? It’s perfect. I’ve got you, and my mom, and those fuckin’ wrecks,” he gestured aimlessly when referring to his friends. “I got everything I could ever need, and I’m gonna have that forever. Get prepared, baby. I ain’t ever fuckin’ leaving.” 

 

Jonas tipped over, turning in Mitch’s arms to press his face into his chest. “You aren’t supposed to swear in church, Mitch.” Is muffled against his chest.

 

Mitch didn’t reply but rolled his eyes, holding Jonas close to his chest.

  
  
  


“Do you, Mitchell Mueller, take Jonas Wagner, to be your husband?” 

 

“I do.”

 

“Do you, Jonas Wagner, take Mitchell Mueller, to be your husband?”

 

“I do.”

 

“I now pronounce you husband, and husband.” The officiate stepped back, smiling at the two men.

  
  


Mitch cupped Jonas’ face, leaning down to press a kiss against his lips. His mother wailed in the background, and Scratch was hollering in excitement. He could hear polite clapping from Sidney, Javier and Cliff.

 

He pulled away to tears in Jonas’ eyes, and a wobbly smile on his face. They joined hands and walked down the aisle, their friends and family pushing at the two men as they left the church. They piled into cars and drove home, Jonas half heartedly pushing away Mitch’s wandering hands and pulling him into kisses at stop signs and red lights. 

 

The plain gold bands around their fingers was a weight they welcomed with ease, listening to the barely there ‘clink’ as the metals met, and Mitch smiled as he felt Jonas’ fingers already start fiddling with his, twisting the ring around and tapping theirs together.

  
  


The day was warm, the sun was shining, and he was happy.  Jonas turned to meet his eyes, 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“O-oh!” Jonas gasped, hand gripping the pillows as Mitch buried his head between thick thighs. He sucked marks into the soft skin and leaving faint, colored marks behind, his mouth never able to stay put long enough to leave the skin purple and red with bruises. 

 

Mitch looked up at Jonas from his place, lips brushing against the underside of his dick from where it lay, drooling a puddle of precum onto his stomach. Jonas had his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying the skin as he started to squirm beneath Mitch’s hands.

 

Mitch grinned, letting go of Jonas’ thighs and crawling up to meet face to face, pulling Jonas into a deep kiss, eagerly accepting Jonas’ tongue as it slid along the seam of his lips. Jonas slid his fingers through Mitch’s hair, nails trailing over his scalp. Mitch shuddered at the sensation, pressing his naked chest against Jonas’ and nipped at his lip.

 

Jonas wrapped a leg around Mitch’s waist, bringing him down and rocking his hips. They rubbed against each other, the precum that coated Mitch’s dick making the slide easier. Jonas’ hands traveled down his chest, the tips of his fingers catching on nipples, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

 

Jonas’ other hand, warm and a little sweaty with how hard he was holding the pillow, encircled their dicks and tugged. Mitch’s groan was punched out of him, breaking their kiss and dropping his head on the pillow. He reached a hand out and grabbed lube from the side of the bed, knocking the hand Jonas had wrapped around him away, sitting up on his knees and uncapping the bottle.

 

He squeezed it on his fingers, reaching down to press against Jonas’ hole and watching as Jonas jacked himself off. Jonas flinched at the cold lube against his hole, nudging him with his heel.

 

It warmed quick enough, Mitch slowly pressing a finger inside. He gave Jonas a moment to relax before moving, pushing and pulling his finger for a few times before hesitantly adding a second. When Jonas showed no sign of discomfort beyond the usual ‘something is up my butt’ Mitch continued. He took over getting Jonas off, thumbing at the head of his dick, curling his fingers around for that special little bump that drove Jonas wild.

 

“Mitch!” Jonas whined suddenly, head tossed back as he pushed down on Mitch’s fingers. Jackpot. Mitch attacked the spot with intent, rubbing his fingers over the little nub with force. His thumb swiped over Jonas’ cockhead, smearing the precum dribbling out of it around.

 

Jonas looked beautiful like this. He’s warm, flushed. His skin has a slight sheen of sweat to it, from the hot room and their activities. His hair is a knotted mess, from Mitch’s fingers running through and gripping and tugging at it when Jonas was sucking him off. There were bite marks on his chest, his stomach. His hips were covered with soft colored marks that were already beginning to fade. 

 

“What is it, baby, what do you need?” Mitch asked, teasing a third finger against his rim. 

 

Jonas keened, shaking his head back and forth as an answer.

 

Mitch let it go, removing his fingers to add more lube. He slid three back in, taking his time to be careful. Jonas grunted at the stretch but took deep breaths. Mitch easily found the little nub again, swiping against it every now and then to help Jonas focus on the pleasure rather than the three fingers he has up his ass. 

 

Mitch took his time fingering Jonas, toying with him as he fucked him with his fingers, winding him up with pleasure until he was ready to let go before stopping. He repeated this twice before he couldn’t handle the noises any more, or the sight of Jonas writhing against the sheets, sweat slicked hair fanning around him on the pillow as he fought and succumbed to the pleasure Mitch gave to him. Mitch slowly removed his finger, biting his tongue at Jonas’ wounded noise, bereft of the long, thinned fingers that had worked him over and over. He wiped them on the sheets, tearing the corner of a condom packet open and grabbed the lube, getting ready for Jonas, who watched with hooded eyes and an open mouth, tongue teasing his lower lip.

 

“God, Joey, so fuckin’ hot.” Mitch breathed, lining himself himself up. He slowly pushed forward, eyes flickering to Jonas’ every few seconds for any sign of discomfort. He kept going when Jonas didn’t react any different, stopping when Jonas needed a few moments to adjust or make himself relax. Soon he was buried to the end, hips pressed flush against the backs of Jonas’ thighs. His soft legs wrapped around Mitch’s waist, and hands gripped his wrist and shoulder as he wiggled back against Mitch. 

 

“Move, please, I’m good.” Jonas gasped softly, eyes fluttering against the feather light tease Mitch performed against his dick, nails skimming along his skin and rubbing his head. 

 

He smirked, shaking his head. “So impatient, babe. What’s gotten into you, now?” Mitch asked, continuing his torturous tease and staying still. Jonas snorted, brow raised.

 

“Right now, I do believe you’re what’s gotten into me, Mitchy.”

 

He huffed as Jonas laughed, playfully slapping his thigh and moving. He pulled back, offering shallow thrusts that gradually turned harder as Mitch drew further away each time until he was thrusting into Jonas, rocking the bed with their movements. It creaked and squeaked in response to them, noise mostly drowned out from Jonas’ cries of pleasure. 

 

Mitch rested his weight on his forearm, placed at the side of Jonas’ head, and used the other to wrap around Jonas’ dick, jerking him in time with his thrusts. A litany of “oh, oh, oh” falling from Jonas’ lips as he fucked Mitch’s fist, his hand curling and nails biting into Mitch’s skin. 

 

“M-Mitch, I, oh!” He gasped, raising his hips to meet Mitch’s thrust. He never picked up his sentence, caught up in the motion of pushing up into being fucked. He could vaguely hear the sound of the headboard meeting the wall with every pitch of Mitch’s hips. 

 

“Fuck,” Mitch grunted, hand now gripping Jonas’ hip, holding him in place as he moved. Jonas took over getting himself off, pulling Mitch’s head down by the back of his neck and capturing him in a kiss. It was sloppy, and he could feel the skin around his mouth get wet with spit but he didn’t stop. 

 

Every thrust broke the kiss but that didn’t matter, they’d start it back up. Their teeth clacked, and more often than not they were just breathing into each other’s mouths, but Mitch and Jonas hardly cared. They were so focused on chasing their pleasure with each other to give a shit about whether or not their lips were actually touching. 

Mitch’s thrusts turned erratic, close to coming undone as he fought to bring Jonas off before he did. He reached a hand down, fingers trailing along the rim of Jonas’ hole, feeling Jonas shudder against the addition. His grip on Mitch’s neck grew stronger, and he seemed torn between pushing back onto the finger and trying to get away from it. The former won the battle, and Jonas eagerly wiggled back against the finger, whining noises forming in the back of his throat. 

 

Mitch gave him what he silently asked for, gathering up lube that slipped from Jonas when Mitch was prepping him earlier and wiggled his finger in, stopping at the first knuckle before slowly going to the next knuckle.

 

That’s what pushed Jonas over, feeling himself stretch to accommodate Mitch’s finger. He gasped as he came, head pushing back into the pillow and nails biting into Mitch’s skin. His vision whited out for a few seconds, and when he came to Mitch was rocking against him slowly, no hurry to his movements like before. 

 

Their lips mashed together in some form of kiss, and Mitch pulled out of Jonas. The other grimaced at the feeling, and watched as Mitch tied off the condom and threw it in the trashcan next to the bed. Mitch cleaned him off with tissues, the two of them curling under the covers to sleep.

  
  
  


“Did you set the alarm, Mitch?”

 

“Mmf.”

 

“Mitch.”

 

“What, what do you want?”

 

“Did you set the alarm?”

 

“No, ‘s fine, we’ll wake up.”

 

“Set the alarm, or we’ll sleep in.”

 

“I’m tired, Joey.”

 

“Our first fight as husbands will not be about this. Set the alarm, Mitch.”

 

“Christ,  _ fine _ !” In a flurry of movement that dislodged most of the blankets, Mitch finally turned over and slammed a few buttons on their alarm clock before settling back in his original position, on his side with his arms around Jonas.

 

He could feel the younger man’s grin pressed to his chest, and grumbled obscenities at him.

 

“Love you, Mitch.”

 

“Love you too, Joey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this fic, maybe leave a kudos and a comment? I'd appreciate it :)
> 
> If you'd like updates on any new fics in the making, or want another Long Exposure blog to follow, I'm at [mitchjonas](https://mitchjonas.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this fic, maybe leave a kudos and a comment? I'd appreciate it :)
> 
> If you'd like updates on any new fics in the making, or want another Long Exposure blog to follow, I'm at [mitchjonas](https://mitchjonas.tumblr.com)


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